Some places have water. Whole parts of the country leak from every pore and crack in the ground. Think of New Hampshire or the Pacific Northwest, where each little town has a glimmering river or stream. In Arizona, water takes on a different aspect. It is not everywhere. In the places it appears, it is a miracle.

In my head, I map the land by its kinds of water — tinajas, seeps, springs, waterpockets, creeks, lakes and rivers. Each part of this state has its type, blood-red flash floods of the sedimentary northeast, and the hidden, underground streams of the dry, hot Southwest. Wherever there are mountains tall enough to wear pines and manzanitas, you find springs and courses of freshets and streams nearby. The phenomenon is most pronounced in the sky islands of the southeast quadrant of the state. Here, lone peaks and ranges stand out of the desert, the highest reaching almost up to 11,000 feet in elevation. Water pours from their bedrock innards. Gathered from storms and snow­fall that collects around these solitary, weather-vane...